Almost Home
by Wings of Indigo
Summary: AU Oneshot. Evy, Rose and the Doctor's daughter, reflects on the place she's going to and the place she's leaving behind as she and her Mum prepare to leave Pete's world and return home.


Evy watches her mother as she unconsciously fiddles with the small piece of paper she holds in her hand. She hasn't seen her mother this happy in a long time.

Rose supervises and helps ad workmen and scientists from Torchwood assemble and prepare a giant hunk of machinery in the middle of the room. She's smiling, and there is great hope in her eyes.

Evy has known her mum for fourteen years, and has never seen her quite this _alive_.

Rose is going home today, after fourteen years of research, development, and endless trial and error. Today, the Dimension Cannon is ready, and it will carry two.

Rose's smile reaches her eyes today, and there's no lingering sadness in them. She's eager to leave this world and return to the one she came from, the one she still calls 'home'. The one where _he_ is. Her Doctor.

Evy looks down at the worn piece of paper in her hand- it's been creased and folded so many times white lines have been etched across the image, and the edges are frayed and torn.

It's a picture taken from security footage, gray but sharp. Two men and her mum stand surrounded by metal men- Cybermen- in front of another who's obviously the Cybers' leader. One of the men she recognizes- Pete Tyler, her grandfather. She glances up to see him helping her mum-he's here too.

The other man she doesn't know, since she's never seen him in person. But she's heard of him. This is her dad, the person her mum's been trying to get back to for fourteen years. The Doctor.

Evy's heard all the stories- Mum's, Pete's, Jackie's, Mickey's- and none of them gave her a real sense of who her dad _is_. Just stories, that's all they had. No pictures, no photos. She found this one when she was eleven, after days of hacking into Torchwood, security backup systems, and even Pete's private files out of desperation. She found the ten minute scrap of footage in the backlog of servers, thrown away but not destroyed. She'd burned the footage onto a DVD and printed off a half-dozen stills, but this one is her favorite. The only picture she has of her mum and dad together.

Evy hears the beginning whine of machinery and glances up, folding the photo again and putting it in her jacket pocket. The Dimension Cannon is slowly powering up, preparing itself to propel them across the void and into another universe. They'll go when it's ready, anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour.

Her mum calls the place they're going 'home'. Evy isn't sure what to call it, yet. She hasn't seen it, and this is home, to her, with her family and zeppelins and Torchwood. Now she's going to leave, for something her mum says is better.

At least Mickey is coming. He's one person she can talk to honestly without burdening further. Evy knows she can and should talk to her mum, and she does. But this 'move'- she doesn't know if she should. Rose wants to leave desperately, and find her Doctor- on some levels, she needs to.

But Evy is unsure of her feelings. This isn't just across the country, or even the world- there's no coming back. She'll never see Jackie and Pete and Tony again. And in the other universe is the Doctor.

Her mum loves him, of that Evy's sure. But how can Evy feel comfortable about the possibility of meeting the man she's raged at and cried for in private for years? How could she be comfortable meeting him when her mum never told him she was pregnant; never said that he would have a daughter?

A warning alarm blares out, announcing that the Cannon is near ready for use. Everyone but Rose, Evy, and Mickey slowly file out. There's a solemnity in the air that's almost tangible. Rose and Mickey have both tested the Cannon's power before, but they were always pulled back across the Void. Today, no one will come back, if all goes well. Ironic.

Pete, Jackie, and Tony stay a little longer, saying goodbye. Pete nods respectfully to Mickey, and gives both Rose and Evy quick, but fierce embraces, and leaves, waiting behind the glass window of the control room. Jackie's goodbye is longer, but no less silent- she hugs them both for several minutes, whispers her love, and joins her husband. That's unexpected, but not surprising; she's said goodbye to her daughter long before, in conditions much harder than this. Tony, however, stays the longest. He exchanges an awkward hug with his 'auntie' Rose, before pulling Evy into a tight, desperately fierce embrace.

They cling to each other, seeking mutual support from these last few moments of contact. They've always been as close as siblings, closer even, lending verisimilitude to the official story that they're fraternal twins.

Evy is crying, silently, when they finally break apart. So is Tony, but he's doing a much better job at containing his tears. He forces a shaky smile as he pulls something from his pocket and slides it onto her finger.

It's a ring; a simple silver band with a blue stone of a shade Evy's always imagined as the color of the TARDIS.

"Something to remember me by," Tony whispers to her. "Remember me, but don't look back. Promise."

"I promise," Evy hears herself say. They hug one last time, and Tony leaves, joining his mum and dad behind the glass.

Evy picks up her backpack and walks over to stand with her mother and Mickey. Each of them has a backpack with clothes, false papers, and money. Evy's also managed to squeeze a few extras into hers. Her laptop, which may or may not work, a flash drive filled with files of alien tech appropriated from Torchwood, her photo album, the tiny baby quilt Rose, Jackie, and Mickey's grandmum made for her, and the DVD with the ten minutes of security footage; the only thing she has with her dad in it. That, including Tony's last gift, is all she'll have from here. It's a pitifully small representation of the happy and full life she's had here.

Rose smiles at her as she joins them in front of the Cannon. The large machine looks vaguely sinister to Evy, but she supposes it must seem like a savior to Rose. After all, it's how she's going to get home and rejoin Evy's dad.

Him. Again, it's back to him. The Doctor. All Evy has of him is a ten minute DVD, four photos of varying quality, and her mum's fantastic stories. How can she be expected to form an opinion based on that? On one side, he's her dad, and she wants to know him; plus, based on Mum's stories, he's an amazing person. But on the other, he's her dad, she _doesn't_ know him, she was an accident that shouldn't have happened, and he doesn't know she exists.

They're standing next to a white wall, the white wall, in fact. Despite the closing of the cracks, the walls of this Universe are still weak here-the only place weaker is Darlig Ulv Straden. And no one has any desire to haul the Dimension Cannon or even go out there. This setting is bad enough for Rose. Evy can feel the Void's closeness- it's a heavy, cloying presence in her mind. She wonders if _he_ could, and knew what was coming. He probably did.

Beyond the Dimension Cannon, through the glass window, she can see her family watching with solemn faces. The Dimension Cannon is gaining power, the whine beginning to fill the room and the lights beginning to grow almost painfully bright.

Evy watches the lights grow brighter, and as her eyes begin to water, wishes she could close her eyes. But she can't, desperate for the last glimpse of her family, the last glimpse she'll ever have.

The light grows so bright it's impossible to see beyond it. Then it flashes into darkness. Her family disappears, replaced by an agonizing heartbeat- or eternity- of endless nothing. And then there's sky, lovely, partly cloudy sky.

They're in London, on a typical day, in an out of the way alley behind a high rise office building. The zeppelins Evy's used to are conspicuously absent, their drone replaced by the sound of thousands of cars on the street and airplanes overhead. Evy takes a deep breath to calm herself, and recoils slightly. Even the air smells and tastes different. It's grittier, full of exhaust and the smells of the city, a strange, disconcerting mix of familiar and foreign.

But while Evy is put off, Rose is anything but. She takes a deep breath and laughs, spinning around with excitement like a teenager as she takes in this London, her home. Even Mickey, stoic, rarely emotional Mickey is smiling with her.

This will take a lot of getting used to. Things are different and yet the same, comfortingly familiar and strangely foreign. Evy takes in her mother's reaction again. Yes, Rose is home. But Evy isn't sure where she is just yet.


End file.
